


Insomnia (WT'18 No.3)

by TheHirsch



Series: Superhero AU [3]
Category: Almost Human, And There Is Hope!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Insomnia, Major Original Character(s), Nightmares, Original Character(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Whump, Whumptober 2018, veteran
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 15:15:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17962985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHirsch/pseuds/TheHirsch





	Insomnia (WT'18 No.3)

_Shots rang out in the dead of night. Bent over, trying to don't get hit Natasha Jurow was sure that the orderly Naumov was right behind her. Just two days ago she had lost her husband to severe injuries, tonight she was back in the field, for Mother Russia and to fight the terrorists and rebels. Through her night scope she now could see the wounded soldier, the picture grainy and green. He had taken several bullets most of which had been stopped by his ballistic vest. Except for one as it seemed, blood was darkening his trousers at his right thigh. Cut open the trousers. Applied an Israeli type trauma bandage. And then bang. She had felt stinging pain in her back, someone had shot her from behind. A grenade detonated not far from Jurow, her assistant and the victim. Blackness._  
***  
Jurow sat in her bed, panting, sobbing. It was still dark, as dark as it could get in LA around the holidays and it was cold, almost freezing. Sweat and tears were running down her face. She could feel the pain she had felt back then and she was scared, frightened even.  
The oversized gray US Army hoodie, she had gotten from one of Kennex’ colleagues was damp and made her feel extra cold.  
She tired to snap herself out of it.  
“Just a dream, Nata, just a dream,” she told herself.  
Suddenly there was a hand on her shoulder. What was going on? She felt attacked, out of reflex she drove around, her lower arm presses against his throat.  
“Natasha. It's me,” Kennex said as loudly as he could, barely able to breathe.  
Jurow froze, and let go of him. What was she doing.  
She rolled over, whispering a breathy “sorry.” She was still crying and her pulse was up again. She kept telling herself that it was just a dream. “I'm so sorry, you scared me,” she repeated. She was still trying to regulate her breathing.  
After her injuries she had left the army. Being a psychological wreckage she had left the Russian Federation. There had been nothing left for her. Her parents had turned their back on her, telling her she had failed them. Sure there was her sister and Anton, over in the small Siberian town she grew up in, there were memories of her time with her husband, who had grown up there too.  
Jurow curled up, she was freezing and still shaking. Kennex pulled her close, rubbing her back. He himself had gone through panic attacks and nightmares, or rather he still had them.  
Two years ago he had lost his leg in an ambush, all other police officers had been killed only his injuries had send him into a coma. The attack had been lead by his ex-girlfriend Anna, who had used him. After he had woken up from the coma, she had disappeared. The force had only taken him back because they were sure he wouldn't be corrupted by the mob.  
He still could feel Jurow shiver and shake. It was the night after the Christmas Eve and she was far away from happy. It made him sad to see her that way, she was from the core a good person, and if anyone else he could related to the way she was feeling. Being helpless as someone who lived to help people.  
Jurow started moving, sitting up. She startled again as her bare feet touched the cold floor. The coldness poking her like a thousand shards poking her feet.  
“I'll change into fresh clothes,” she whispered and tried to put her feet down again. Her posture was still hunched over and very insecure.  
Jurow pulled another hoodie from the hanger and dropped the other one straight to the floor, not giving a fuck. Before she put the fresh one on she ran her hand over the scars on her back and arms. Skin was differently there. The most noticeably scar was the one under her left clavicle, no exit scar. They had left most the bullet inside of her. She smiled a bit sad, it had been friendly fire, a rookie had panicked and accidentally fired.  
Jurow put on the fresh hoodie, it was cold but dry, so it fell warm pretty quickly. She loosened her ponytail, it was messed up anyway, she went back to bed. She huddled up to him and he was holding her close. He soon was back asleep, for her it took a lot longer.


End file.
